


Reassurance

by wuwu



Series: Exploring Us [2]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Transphobia, M/M, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, trans MC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 20:24:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10861434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wuwu/pseuds/wuwu
Summary: “Ah, yeah,” MC agrees. “I know we had our whole gay heart to heart back at your place-”a snort from Zen,“-but I still… want to be sure you’re okay with this. If not for your sake, then for mine.”MC has doubts.





	Reassurance

**Author's Note:**

> currently trying to get all of zens bad ends and i needed some positivity ,,, let me love him in peace
> 
> also i 100% recommend reading part 1

Being with Zen at home is one thing, but walking with him in a public setting is an entirely different experience. As they walk, Zen trying to talk excitedly without moving his hands, MC notices just how many people look their way. He can feel eyes linger on them as they walk, mouths agape as Zen’s hair floats past them. Their gazes are admirable and their hearts are set, yet Zen acts as if he doesn't even notice it.

MC twirls his fingers in his hair as they walk.

“Is something wrong?” Zen asks, steps faltering just slightly as he glances down. His bangs sweep past his eyes, hair brushing to show the bright ruby tint of his irises. MC can feel his heart twist just a bit more.

“I’m fine!” MC chirps. No he isn't. He can only hope that Zen doesn't notice the sagging of his shoulders. “Just a bit shaken up that I'm really here with you.” That part was true, though. He never would have imagined he could see Zen so soon, let alone be able to enjoy his company as intimately as he had. He'd expected something not nearly as kind and forgiving as the treatment he's receiving currently.

“Ah, it feels nice to hear you say that,” Zen grins. His chin lifts a little higher, cheeks glowing in the warmth of the sunset. “It's just too bad you had to come here under these circumstances. I would've liked to take you out on a proper date.” His smile cracks slightly, but he quickly regains his positivity, looking down at him and locking eyes. “When the party is over, we have to go somewhere together, okay? I won't take no for an answer~.” There’s a flush to his cheeks that’s barely present beneath the glare of the sun, but MC can see it clear as day as Zen slowly leans down to press closer to him.

Hurriedly, MC turns his head away and brushes a punch against Zen’s arm, just light enough to seem like a joke to passersby, yet heavy enough to get his point across. _Don’t get so close to me!_

“You should be more careful,” MC warns, speeding up his pace as he walks ahead of Zen. He spares a glance behind his shoulder to be sure he’s keeping up, not wanting to raise his voice more than needed. “This is exactly what Jaehee was worried about, you know.”

“Well, yeah, but you’re not a girl,” Zen huffs out. “I don’t see what’s wrong with us going out together.” He seems perturbed, brows furrowed as he trails alongside MC. Even with crutches, his long legs carry him further along than MC’s own do.

“It doesn’t matter who I am if you’re two inches away from my face,” he refutes. “If people start to suspect something, the media will be all over any rumors they come up with.” _And they’ll find out I’m not even a--_

“It’s just not fair,” Zen whines. “You’re here, but we can’t even _do_ anything! Oh, the world truly is cruel to beautiful men.” He throws an arm up to shield his eyes, but it only serves to halt their steps since Zen needs both arms to walk. MC snorts at his pout.

“Even if we could show some PDA,” MC laughs, “you’re using two crutches to walk. You need both of your hands.” Zen sniffles dramatically and begins to walk once more, balancing his weight on the crutches with ease. MC’s kind of glad that he’s got something to slow him down. He doesn’t think he could keep up with Zen’s long stride if he wasn’t injured.

“Hmm, what if I only used one and leaned on your shoulder then?” He seems proud of his suggestion, what with the way he starts to push his weight onto one crutch.

“You’re too tall!” MC points out. “And as much as I’d love to have you by my side, I don’t think it’ll be a very comfortable position.” _Not to mention it’ll look pretty gay._

“Gahh, life is tough,” Zen relents. He doesn’t bring up the subject again, too busy focusing on the cracks in the sidewalk to make up another scenario.

When they get into the grocery store, a gust of cold air shoots down at them and causes a shiver to roll through MC’s bones. Zen walks ahead, unfazed by the cool air, and MC trudges behind slowly as he adjusts to the chill of the store.

“We didn’t make a list, did we?” MC wonders aloud. He looks around at the colorful array of aisles, fascinated by how so many shelves could be shoved in such a small building.

“All I had was beer anyway,” Zen shrugs. “So I think anything we get would be fine.” MC nods alongside him, watching him pick up cans that he knows Zen has no intention of buying. He doesn’t mind it, though. He wants to spend as much time with Zen as possible.

MC opens his mouth to comment what they should get, but he quickly notices that they have no way to hold onto the items. “Ah, I’ll be back,” he tells Zen, backpedaling out of the aisle. “I’ll go get us a basket!”

It’s a lonely walk to the front of the store, but he hurriedly grabs onto a basket from the stack and makes his way back over to Zen. He passes by only a few people, thankful there’s not a lot of commotion to bother his trip to the store, but the reason as to why the front is so empty is revealed to him as he approaches Zen.

A crowd of girls stand around Zen with their phones out, cameras filming and snapping pictures as he smiles gently. His crutches are squished against the shelf, tucked under his arms as he balances himself on one foot. A few fans express their concern over his injury, but Zen brushes them off with another one of his smiles. MC finds himself annoyed with the grating pitch of their excitement.

“I do appreciate your support,” Zen tells them. “However, I’m a bit pressed for time right now and I really need to do some shopping. My friend over there has been helping me, but he’s got to get home soon.” He looks apologetic, both to MC and his fans. It’s understandable. He can’t choose one over the other without some sort of backlash, but there’s a time and a place for everything. And right now is not the time for a meetup.

There’s a resounding cry of disappointment at his words, looks of pure disappointment spread across the crowd all in varying degrees of sadness. This is how it should be, MC muses. Zen, surrounded by a crowd of _girls_ , winning over their hearts with nothing more than a peaceful smile. This is how things should be. He can feel his chest constrict as he watches the scene, throat tight and eyes strained as he picks out every insecurity he can think of in the moment.

“While you lot are very kind, this is an errand that I’ve got to do on my own,” Zen says with a bittersweet smile. “Besides, it’s getting late out, and I wouldn’t want to keep any of you out of the house near curfew.” He gives a friendly wink and the crowd of girls eventually disperse, saying their goodbyes and get-well wishes as they depart. It takes a few minutes, but MC and Zen are eventually left on their own to scour the shelves.

“Finally, I can relax again,” Zen sighs. “They're very generous, but they can be easily overwhelming. The fate of an actor, I guess.” Zen nods to himself as they browse the aisles, picking out juice and bread and small snacks.

“Do you not like being around your fans a lot?” MC asks, curious.

“No, I love being around everyone who supports me so wholeheartedly,” Zen tells him. “But I wanted to spend more time with you rather than strangers I’ll never really get to know. Call me greedy, but I want to be with you as much as possible before you have to leave. There’s nothing I’d like more.”

 _You don’t need someone like me._ MC can feel many things gnaw at his ankles, namely the ever present feeling of inadequacy.

“I want to be with you, too,” MC answers quietly. He keeps his head down, hearing Zen drone on about everything, but he understands nothing.

He doesn’t know what sparked these thoughts, perhaps it was the stares on their walk to the store, but MC knows that there’s no stopping the weight that coils around his limbs, pulling him down, down, _down_. Zen doesn’t need him, really. He doesn’t need someone so… so _uncoordinated_. He deserves only the best, and MC certainly doesn’t meet that criteria.

“...he wouldn't like that much,” Zen laughs, bringing MC out of his thoughts.

MC only smiles along as they walk for a bit more and finally pay. He insists on using his card, but Zen shoos him away to put away the groceries as he digs through his own wallet. He isn’t sure how he’s supposed to bag the products, but he does his best as Zen talks to the cashier with an amiable smile. He’s got most of them in the bags when Zen moves over to help him, quickly putting the rest of the groceries in their respective plastics and waving goodbye to the cashier. MC follows suit, carrying the bulk of the bags while Zen holds a few of the lighter items. He struggles at first, but MC watches as he quickly regains balance and an easy pace, slower than the steps he took when they both walked to the store.

Zen lets out a low howl, grinning as he glances down. “I haven't gone shopping in a while,” he admits. “It was nice, even though I couldn't help carry anything. Sorry about that.” He looks a bit unsettled at the ease of which he’s holding the groceries in his hand, no doubt focusing on how much food was pushed into MC’s hands.

“It’s fine,” MC waves off. He focuses on the way the plastic cuts into his palms, regretting not buying the reusable bags made from cloth. “I wouldn't want you to trip and hurt yourself even more. Or make a mess in the store.”

“Hey! I'm not clumsy!” he protests. “I’ll have you know that I'm a master over my body. What kind of klutz can do the tango?”

“Hmm, maybe a very lucky klutz?”

Zen’s laugh brings his mood up a bit more, allowing him to focus on the words flowing from his mouth and the tinge of pink that graces the tips of his ears. The sun shines through his hair, shadows trailing ahead of them as they walk, and there’s a warmth that surrounds them, encasing them in their own bubble of safety. MC lets his shoulders sag a bit, stomach caving in as he heaves out a sigh.

“Are you okay?” Zen asks. He licks at his lips, eyes staring toward the horizon. “I’m sorry if the crowd was too much for you. I never really realize how odd it is until I’ve got someone _normal_ with me, I guess. I’ve gotten used to these kind of things since it’s how I’ve grown up.” He looks so apologetic it makes _MC_ feel sorry.

“It was a bit off putting,” MC admits. Zen makes a weird face, eyes closing shut as his mouth presses into a thin line. MC quickly backtracks. “But I’m not upset or anything! I know that I’m going to have to expect this kind of treatment from now on. I’ll get used to it, too.” MC is grateful that the gentle pinks and purples of the sky are driving people into their house for the evening, glad that there’s nobody close enough to witness their conversation.

“I don't want to drive you away before we've had the chance to even _try_ and do something for ourselves,” Zen admits. He smiles wistfully at nothing, eyes unfocused as he lets his limbs carry him. “Especially since our dynamic has certainly… _differed_ from what I imagined it to be.”

 _There it is_.

There's no malice in Zen’s voice, no hint of disgust or repulsion or betrayal. Not a single trace of malcontent is present in his words, yet the unease in MC’s stomach only grows and grows, forcing him to feel as though he's on the verge of throwing up.

He knows that this is something they needed to talk about _now_ . Well, maybe not on the walk back to Zen’s place, but definitely when they got back indoors. Coming out as trans to someone you’ve been pining over for weeks or months would certainly be easier, what with the fact that each party was actually _in contact_ with one another and already knew what preferences each person held. But with MC and Zen? They’d known each other for a week, and MC had been practically catfishing him since day one. He’d wanted to avoid talking about this. He wanted things to keep on moving on like they were, neither of them focused on the fact that he wasn’t really the girl everyone in the RFA believed him to be. MC would have preferred to never breach such a sensitive topic, but he knows that doing so would do more harm than good. He’s just gotta suck it up.

“Ah, yeah,” MC agrees. “I know we had our whole gay heart to heart back at your place-” _a snort from Zen,_ “-but I still… want to be sure you’re okay with this. If not for your sake, then for mine.” MC spares a glance back up at Zen, eyes raking across his face as Zen slowly turns down to meet his eyes. “It’ll just bother me if we aren’t clear about things.”

Zen lets out a low hum paired with a nod. Silence falls around the two, surrounding each of them and growing heavier with each step taken. MC can guess that Zen isn’t too nervous about anything, for the way his steps only grow longer and the sight of his jaw clenched screams nothing but confidence. MC, on the other hand, is the absolute image of apprehension. Whereas Zen’s shoulders remain squared, MC feels himself shrink into himself more and more with each passing second. His chest grows tight and his binder certainly isn’t helping and the bags cutting into his skin only serve to exist as another nuisance in this moment.

When they eventually arrive home, Zen unlocking the door and holding it open, MC rushes in and busies himself with putting everything away. He does so with ease, losing himself in the rhythm of placing everything wherever he sees fit since Zen doesn’t buy enough food to care anyway.

“You’re pretty fast,” Zen comments, a low whistle coming from his lips as he drops his own bags on the kitchen island. He leans against the countertop before pulling up a stool for him to sit on, sighing gratefully as his ankle is relieved from duty.

“Stress reliever,” MC says out of impulse. _Ah, fuck._ He didn’t mean to.

“Okay, what’s bothering you?” Zen asks. He opens the plastic bag for MC to dig through, allowing him to sort out his feelings with rushed movements. “I told you that I’m fine with everything.”

“That’s what’s bothering me!” MC says a little too loudly, hand slamming down the box of cereal on the counter. The flakes rustle in the box, boisterous and echoing throughout the house. “At first I was relieved, and I still am, but it just doesn’t seem believable. There’s gotta be something with this situation that’s been bothering you. _Anything._ ” His growing anxieties, his growing _insecurities,_ nag at him in an incessant mantra at this point. He’s pretty much begging for Zen to pick out a flaw and chew him out for it.

“Well what do you want me to say?” Zen huffs out. His fists tighten on the counter, face growing heavier as he stares at MC. Zen can’t tell if he’s annoyed or distraught at what he’s saying, but either way he doesn’t like it.

“I don’t know,” MC sighs. He gathers up the bags, plastic squishing between his fingers as he attempts to meld them together with strength alone. His hands tremble, his shoulders tense, and so he releases his grip and moves on to finding the pots and pans. “Well, for starters, I don’t even know if you’re straight or bi or whatever the hell. Maybe give me a clue as to what exactly is your preference.” _Would he even like someone like me…_

He can hear Zen drum his fingers on the counter over the sound of him rummaging through cupboards. MC is being unnecessarily loud and he’s positive that Zen thinks so as well, so he slows his movements and holds his breath as he finally finds a pan suitable for a simple meal.

“I’m not familiar with the different terms,” Zen says. His eyes rake across MC’s figure, watching him wash vegetables and sort them out on a large cutting board. “But I’ve been with my fair share of people.” MC pauses at his words, hands stuttering as they place a head of cabbage down. “Not like I’ve had lots of partners! Just that I haven’t been with only women, so to speak.” MC nods at that, eyes flicking up to see an uneasy grin on Zen’s face. “Everyone’s been curious once or twice, right?”

“And what about now?” MC manages to mutter. He wipes his hands on his sweater, looking around warily. “Are you still curious?”

“You know I’ve got my sights set on you,” Zen says with a smile. “I follow my heart more than anything else, and I know that I’m willing to have you no matter what. You being a guy doesn’t turn me away, and I’m more than ready to announce to the world that I have a boyfriend I love so very, very much.”

“That doesn’t really answer my question,” MC laughs. It comes in a short burst, like a rush of disbelief that Zen _actually_ likes him.

“Ok, let’s be real here,” Zen says with a straight face. His expression slowly morphs into a smile as he waits for MC to bend down to look back at him, eyes aglow with anticipation. “You don’t spend hours upon hours every day staring at yourself in a mirror without being a little bit gay, don’t you think?”

The statement has MC reeling back with giggles, smile wide as he covers his mouth his hands. His eyes shut with shock and he barely registers Zen’s own quieter laughter that sounds more pleased than amused. He cracks an eye open and stares back at Zen, cheeks flushed and eyes growing teary as the moment passes and he’s filled with a feeling of dread.

“Okay, fuck, sorry,” Zen apologizes, reaching for his crutches as he attempts to stand and console MC. “I shouldn’t have tried to joke right now, right? Fucking hell.”

“You’re not the problem,” MC bursts out, head shaking frantically. He motions for Zen to sit back down, choosing instead to step closer to him. The island still serves as a barrier between the two, and should worst come to worst, MC can just run around him and hope that his shorter, healthy legs can outrun Zen’s own battered bones. “It’s me. It’s always been me.”

“Wh-What are you talking about?” Zen asks, breathless. MC can see that he’s itching to walk over, but Zen contains himself with only slight irritation. The way his brows pinch together and the sound of his shoe tapping against the floor says it all.

“What you see when you look in the mirror and what I see are totally different,” MC chokes out. He’s consumed in his own thoughts, overtaken with the idea that Zen won’t have him if he isn’t perfect, if he isn’t _deserving_. It’s fucked up and he knows that Zen would never hold him to any ideals, but the idea constricts his mind and he can’t help but reach for negatives despite there being a positive so close to him. “I’m not-- I don’t have-- We’re just not the same. And we never will be. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“The only one who’s bothered by anything is you, it seems,” Zen says solemnly. He slowly stands from where he sits, carefully moving toward MC while he focuses his weight on his good foot. MC’s too tired to protest. “You’re perfect the way you are.”

MC shakes his head and wipes his tears away, ignoring the fresh onslaught that follows soon after. “I don’t want you to be disappointed with me,” he admits. His voice cracks and he feels like he used to feel back when he was sixteen, all awkward angles and soft edges. “Everyone else was.” Zen steps closer and grabs his hands, fingers rubbing over his palms as he listens. “Too feminine for the girls, they’d say. Not feminine enough for the guys. I’ve always been too much or not enough. I’m never the right chair, never the right porridge, never the right bed.”

Zen gently pulls him closer, arms holding him loosely as he brings MC to press his face into his coat. “You’ve just been seeing the wrong people,” Zen whispers. “If they can’t love you for who you are, then goddamn it they don’t deserve you anyway. I’m sorry that you had to go through that all, and I promise you that I’ll be here to shoulder your pain with you whenever you need me.”

“What you have beneath your shirt is drastically different to what I have,” MC mumbles, words muffled by the soft fabric of Zen’s coat. “Everything that makes up your appearance is how it should be, whereas nothing that makes up _me_ aligns with who I am. I’m a botched mesh of a person.” His hands grip at the back of Zen’s clothing, fingers holding him captive. “I just don’t want you to think less of me.”

“I would never, _ever_ even consider belittling you in any way,” Zen says softly. “No matter how you present yourself, no matter how your body looks, I would never dream of hurting you.” MC hiccups against his chest. “You telling me you’re trans did come as a bit of a shock, but I don’t hold your identity against you. What I love about you is your heart, and everything else that’s on the outside is just icing on the cake. I’m not put off by who you are, nor do I think that you’re any less of a man than I am. We’re all a little disadvantaged, and what matters most is that you do your best to overcome anything that’s holding you back.” He brings a hand up to brush against MC’s hair, fingers threading through the strands as he speaks. “And I can proudly say that you’ve done more than your best.”

“So you don’t think that I’m weird or gross?”

“Absolutely not,” Zen assures him. “You’re the most perfect, handsomest man in all of existence and I love every part of you.” He presses a kiss to MC’s crown, a warmth spreading down his spine as Zen pulls back. “And that’s kind of a big deal coming from me.” MC laughs against his chest, stepping back so he can look at him properly in the eye.

“And if we ever decide to make it to bed one day? What then?” MC asks, gaze unsure. He’s holding his breath once more, teeth gnawing at the insides of his cheeks.

“Then we’ll do whatever you feel comfortable doing, and I’ll worship you either way,” Zen answers. “But for now, we can take things slow and we won’t worry about that sort of intimacy until you feel at ease around me. Your comfort is my first priority, after all.”

“What did I ever do to deserve someone as kind as you?” MC laughs to himself and buries his face in Zen’s chest, snot wiping on the front of his coat. He’s sure Zen’s going to have a fit, but he can’t bring himself to mind the whining that’s sure to come from his mouth.

“Do you feel any better?”

“A little,” MC nods. “I know that I’ve still got a ways to go to feel more confident in myself, and I might need your help, but things are definitely better now. Thank you, really.”

“This shouldn’t have been anything special,” Zen says with melancholy.

“Maybe not,” MC sighs, “But anything is special when I’m with you.” He leans back to look up at Zen, but he’s hit with surprise when Zen picks him up with ease and hobbles over to the couch, not-so-carefully setting MC down on the cushions before encasing him.

“I never want you to leave,” Zen groans. He buries his face in MC’s hair, lips lost in the brown locks as he cries out. “I want you to stay here forever. We can watch old movies and eat cabbage and only worry about running out of shampoo.”

“Jumin would have my ass if I didn’t go home today,” MC chuckles. He lifts Zen’s head up and holds him in place, chest tight as he searches for any hint of trepidation or unease on Zen’s face. He finds none, and instead revels in the childish pout he receives in place of anything discouraging.

“I wish I could stay with you forever,” Zen sighs. He shuts his eyes and lowers himself so they can press their foreheads together, breaths intermingling as they breathe in tandem with one another.

“After the party we can have all the fun we want,” MC smiles. He closes his eyes as well, focusing on the rise of Zen’s chest against his. “And we can learn more about each other as well.” Zen whistles lowly, so MC tugs on his hair. “Not like that, Mr. Beast.”

“Then what do you propose?” Zen asks, rubbing his head slightly.

“I’ll tell you about my childhood, and you can tell me about yours,” he says. “There’s nothing more sincere than the youth of children.” His voice comes out as soft, bordering on a whisper, and MC can only relax into Zen as he slowly unwinds.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

And when Zen kisses him, soft and pliant and languid, MC can feel himself melt under his touch, bones turning into mercury and sighs turning into quiet confessions in the silence of the house. The discomfort of Zen’s ankle and the growing ache in their stomachs does little to fault them, and MC finds himself without a care in the world for his image as he cries freely and surely, lying in wait for Zen to wipe his tears away.

**Author's Note:**

> next time on exploring us: i stop making mc so emo and they just have a good time
> 
> but also thanks for reading !!! trans mc rlly means a lot to me and i kind of ,, dump parts of myself on him lolol im looking forward to writing more for this series !!


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